


Tidal Wave

by quillquiver



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Destiel - Freeform, Hand Jobs, M/M, Smut, human!dean, merman!cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 17:30:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1162509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quillquiver/pseuds/quillquiver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I mean you no harm,” the being said, a pleading quality to his voice. “My name is Castiel. I am a Servant of the Sea, like my brothers and sisters before me. Just as you, Son of Adam, serve the Land.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tidal Wave

Blue eyes haunted him. Ever since the wreck off the coast of Virginia, Dean had been followed by them; clear and pure like the sea herself, beckoning to him. They swam before him every time he closed his eyes, and all objects, cerulean or otherwise, reminded him of them.

They haunted him all the way across the Atlantic. Sam had begged him not to go, but Uncle Bobby had nodded his head in solemn understanding… nobody refused an offer like the one Dean had gotten; blacksmith for the governor of Port-Au-Prince. He’d be paid enough to send Sam to those fancy schools that were cropping up back at home.

As for John, well, their father didn’t care much these days; he spent his time raving about the sea and her cruelty. After all, it had been she that had taken Mary, Dean’s mother, when their Brigantine had sunk, leaving John and his two sons the only survivors.

Dean only vaguely remembered yelling and fire, and a pair of big blue eyes, floating in the darkness as he grabbed onto a floating piece of wood.

It was this memory, woven into a dream, that woke him in the middle of the night, green eyes wide as the most beautiful music wormed its way into his heart. Immediately, the young man made his way on deck, eyes drawn downwards to the source of the sound; to red hair and pale, bare breasts… He pushed past the others to get a better view, murmuring in amazement as more of these women emerged from the deep, each more beautiful than the last. They beckoned, begging the sailors to come play, and men scrambled over each other to jump off the ledge and into the rocky waters below, the hull of the ship creaking and cracking with every passing second.

And then all of a sudden, Dean was underwater.

He choked in the blackness, disoriented as he tried to swim for the surface. The cold was sharp against his temples and Dean could only barely make out shimmering scales as he clawed at his throat, panicking even further when hands grabbed him ‘round his neck and began to squeeze.

But then the hands were gone, and cool, soft lips were pressed against his own, causing the young man to gasp and sputter and cough. He blacked out while his vision swam with blue eyes.

The next time Dean awoke, he was warm. Cracking an eye open, the blacksmith attempted a groan, gagging at the dryness in his throat. Carefully, he sat up, head spinning. His arm hit something solid, and upon seeing it was liquid, the young man uncorked the bottle and took a deep pull, coughing at the slight sting of alcohol as it burned down his throat. It was watered down, and it was liquid.

Himself basically taken care of, Dean tried to figure out what the hell had happened and what he was doing on some beach. He was looking out at the sea when something dark bobbed in the water a few feet away, eyes like the ocean staring at him before they widened and disappeared again, the water shimmering as they sunk back into its depths.

“Hey!” Dean cried, gripping the bottle tightly as he waded out into the water, searching for, well,  _something_. “Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you! Look, see? Just me!” Dean spread his arms in a gesture of piece, trying not to make any sudden moves as a shimmering caught the corner of his left eye. “I don’t mean any trouble”, he continued, following the shimmering as it began to swim away. Quickly, Dean followed, wading through shallow water to finally reach a small cove-like are, flushed and out of breath. He took another pull of his bottle, scanning the area as he tried to coax the thing out. “I swear, I won’t hurt you. I mean, look at me! No weapons, no nothing. I just wanted to say… thanks.”

Peering out from behind a rock were the eyes.  _The_ eyes. Framed with think, dark lashes, they blinked once, twice, staring at Dean as he stepped forward, the creature moving back in time. “Hey, don’t worry,” the young man said softly. “You got nothing to worry about.”

Hesitantly, the figure moved again, this time revealing more of itself as it maneuvered around the boulder, clutching to it for dear life.

It was a man.

A beautiful man, not much older than Dean himself, with shocking blue eyes and dark, unruly hair, even in its drenched state. His chest was bare but for a small, glass vial that hung from a chain around his neck, glowing light bight against his skin, and he had some sort of beautiful, squiggly design in black ink moving up his left shoulder. Carefully, Dean approached him, holding out a hand as he drew nearer and nearer and…

Scales.

Beginning about an inch under his navel, Dean could clearly see scales, light reflecting off of them and shimmering under water. The young man took a step back.

“Wait!”

The voice that came from that full, pink mouth was deeper than expected, and Dean paused, watching as the man held out a hand in return. “Please.”

The offered appendage looked innocent enough, but the cuts and scars marring the merman’s chest and arms spoke of danger, not safety. From this close, it was easy to see faint little white lines, marking otherwise pristine flesh. The skin under his right arm sported a large gash, and before he could stop himself, Dean had brushed his fingers along the being’s bicep, somehow saddened. It seemed wrong that a merman look so perfect from far away, but be riddled with imperfection up close. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s nothing,” the blue-eyed creature assured. “I heal quickly in salt water. Are… you all right?”

Dean frowned. “Me? Why-”

And it was like he was re-living it; his mother, the song, the kiss- “You… saved me?” the young man asked, incredulous. His entire face seemed to scream:  _why?_

The merman titled his head to the side in a curious gesture, eyes narrowing just so. “Of course I did. You are pure. Untainted.  _Good_. You are to be protected.” A pause. “You… do not share my opinion.”

“How do you know that?”

“You told me; with the crease in your brow and shadow over your eyes. Though I cannot read minds, I am adept at reading faces.” Dean seemed hesitant. “I mean you no harm,” the merman said, a pleading quality to his voice. “My name is Castiel. I am a Servant of the Sea, like my brothers and sisters before me. Just as you, Son of Adam, serve the Land.”

“You killed the crew. All those men-”

“No,” Castiel interrupted, tone dark. “ _I_  did no such thing. You understand, Child of Dust, that my kind serves our most beautiful and fickle Mistress well. Part of our duty is to cleanse the waters of sin and wickedness. Your people are all of these things… But, I do not believe that these evil parts make their sum. There is so much love between humans; perhaps more than even hate in its abundance across this Earth. I do not believe that the duty my kind has consigned themselves to is truly what my Mistress had intended.”

Dean was silent.

“Child of Eve-”

“Dean,” the young man offered. “My name is Dean.”

“Dean,” Castiel tried, the word foreign and sweet on his tongue. “Beautiful.”

Dean flushed, moving towards the strange creature cautiously as he let slip a hand underneath the water, purposefully brushing against the scales of Castiel’s tail. The merman jumped in surprise, assuring his human companion that all was well as he took Dean’s hand in his own and pressed it, palm flat, against his tail. “Never against the grain,” the merman asked of him.

Dean was very careful. “So...” he asked sometime later, looking resolutely down at Castiel gorgeous lower half; all his scales were in different shades of blue, starting light and ending in a dark, almost black color, his flippers veined with thin ribbons of silver. “How’d I survive anyway? Last night, I mean.”

“I saved you.”

“Yeah, no, I get that. But… how?”

Something flashed across Castiel’s face, leaving it flushed and embarrassed as he looked away. “A kiss,” he murmured. “I apologize for not asking your consent, but you were drowning. I needed to act quickly-”

Hurriedly, Dean launched himself forward, placing a sweet kiss to the merman’s cheek before pulling away. “Um, thanks,” he said softly, smiling giddily at the pleasantly shocked expression on the being’s face. “For saving me.”

The young man was moving away when Castiel gripped his forearm, slowly pulling them close again. “I apologize for my forward manner,” the dark-haired being murmured. “But what you did, just then-”

“You mean this?” Dean pressed another bold kiss to Castiel’s skin, this time to the corner of his mouth. He pulled away with a grin. The merman exhaled shakily as his eyes slipped shut, tongue poking out to taste the area before his blue gaze settled once more on the human in his grasp. With altogether too much care, Castiel wrapped an arm securely around Dean’s waist, the young man’s legs spread apart for Cas’ magnificent tail while the merman’s other hand moved to tangle in light hair. “May I?” Castiel asked softly.

Dean bit his lip, leaning forward to nudge the nose of this being to whom he owed so much. Perhaps this could be his first step to repaying the blue-eyed creature. “Go for it.”

Castiel tasted like sweet water. Cool and comforting, the merman held tightly to the human, tail flicking to brush against Dean’s legs and groin as he tried not to hang off of his companion completely. The sensation was erotic, and the young man soon found himself pressing into Castiel more urgently, some part of his mind screaming for him to stop. He hadn’t known the merman for even a day. Castiel wasn’t even  _human_.

But it felt  _so good_.

And suddenly, Dean wasn’t doing this for repayment, or because he felt he had to… He never wanted to stop. Because the feel of water droplets trapped in between them, of the slippery-ness of Castiel’s tail in conjunction with the warmth of his tongue and the shyness of his nips and licks, it was perfect.

And when he moaned, it was, truly, the most beautiful sound Dean had ever heard; musical and dirty in its desperation, it simply sounded like  _sex_.

Hands gripping the merman’s hips, Dean lifted the being from the water, sitting him on the boulder as the human crowded into his space, moving to mouth at Castiel’s neck. His tail, in the meantime was pressed up against the rock, flippers only barely grazing the water both due to his positioning and the tide rapidly lowering.

All of a sudden, Castiel had legs.

Dean pulled away quickly when he felt soft skin beneath his fingers, looking at the dark-haired creature with wide eyes. “Cas?”

Cas smiled at the nickname only briefly, eyes narrowing curiously as he leaned forward to touch the new appendages for himself, wriggling his toes experimentally as he did. “It was only a story,” he said, awed, fingers moving to touch his toes and calves before going up and up to brush his thighs, getting dangerously close to his groin. Dean watched the movement raptly, his own hand resting against a very human-looking knee as he moved to stand in between Castiel’s legs. He watched as Cas dragged his fingertips through the dark hair at his groin, jumping in surprise at the shocks of pleasure that zipped up his spine at the feeling. Castiel looked to Dean then, confused and flushed and scared as the human pressed a soft kiss to his mouth, murmuring assurances against drying skin.

Slowly, so as not to spook the delicate creature, Dean brushed his own fingers across Cas’ damp hardness, his own prick hot and heavy in the confines of his pants. The merman gasped something in a language Dean didn’t understand, hip bucking as Castiel pulled away, looking down at himself in complete embarrassment as he glanced at his companion, eyeing the bulge in his pants with a bitten lip. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to… What?”

Dean was grinning. He kissed the area where Cas’ brows knitted, smoothing out the flesh before pressing a chaste kiss to his mouth, hand moving to slid over the being’s hardness in one, sure stroke. “Just go with it,” he breathed, smirking as Castiel’s head snapped back, eyes squeezing shut as he groaned loudly. “Anything you feel like doing, it’s not wrong.”

Dean felt nimble fingers on the drawstrings of his pants.

The human quickly pulled his sopping shirt over his head, biting his lip as Cas undid the knot at his waistband, the dark-haired creature pulling at the material. Hesitating for only a moment, Castiel lifted his feet to Dean’s hips, pushing the linen down his legs, heels moving to lock behind the human’s back once he was bare. Urgently, Cas pressed his mouth to his companions, hands smoothing over broad shoulders and muscled chest, nails grating ever so slightly against dark nipples. Dean whimpered, pulling Castiel to the very edge of the rock, as the dark-haired man travelled lower and lower, fingers ultimately wrapping around the man’s cock. Pumping up and down in a couple of deliberate, slow strokes, Cas watched in absolute amazement as Dean’s brows furrowed in pleasure, eyes slipping shut with a small moan. The human buried his face in Castiel’s neck, breathing heavily against his skin as his own fingers stroked Cas’ more slender prick, smiling breathlessly at the moan his actions had coaxed out of the merman.

Castiel’s orgasm hit him like a tidal wave. Powerful and unexpected, the tingling in his nerves exploded, pleasure coursing through his veins like fire as he came on Dean’s hand, soiling the human’s chest as well. He was loud, and beautiful, and Dean had to wrap his hand around Cas’ slack one after the being had finished, Castiel’s palm slick with water and pre-come as they moved as one. The dark-haired creature licked his way into Dean’s mouth, other hand snaking around to the human’s backside. He hesitated before grabbing a handful of the young man’s backside, fingers slipping down to brush against sensitive, darker skin.

Dean came.

Holding onto Cas for dear life, the human murmured his companion’s name liked a mantra, kissing him desperately as he spilled over slender fingers with a groan and a sigh.  He pressed his mouth to Castiel’s with a drunken smile, green eyes slipping open as Dean nudged the other’s cheek before moving to once again bury his face in Cas’ neck.

They stayed there for the remainder of the afternoon; touching and cuddling and kissing, speaking soft words in hushed tones. At one point, they moved so that Dean could sit atop the boulder as well, Cas’ leg hanging off the rock, his toes barely submerged in salt water/ It was only when the sea was crawling up halfway to his knee that the merman slipped into the water, tail shimmering in the light of the setting sun. He rested against the boulder, arms crossed as he listened to Dean regale him with another story about his brother, looking up at the bare young man and smiling softly.

When it was time to say goodbye, Castiel removed the vial hanging from his neck, putting it around Dean’s. It glowed a brilliant blue against the warm, human skin, and Cas smiled sadly, the expression final. “Will- um, will I ever see you again?”

“Perhaps,” the merman said softly. “Or perhaps you should forget about me. I’m not human, Dean. I never will be.”

Dean nodded, smile devoid of any happiness. “We could pretend…”

A soft shake of his head. “You deserve so much more than I can offer.” Castiel pressed a chaste kiss to Dean’s mouth. “There’s a small town not a twenty minute walk from here. You can get a ship there.”

“Cas…”

“We’re from two different worlds, you and I. But if you truly need me, I’ll know.”

“How?”

Nimble fingers touched the vial resting against Dean’s chest. “It will tell me.” 

***  
The first time Dean needed Cas, he’d waded out into the water after a long day at work, wanting, more than anything, some company. True to his word, Castiel had appeared. He begged the young man to go socialize and meet people, but Dean had merely kissed the other softly, gathering him in his arms to bring him to shore. The hugged and cuddled and talked, and Dean gave the other being his shirt as they sat on the cooling sand, fingers entangled. They did not make love. 

***  
The second time Dean needed Castiel, he was drunk and upset and in a tavern, drinking away his disappointment and frustration. He had waded out to see Cas twice within the past week, and the other had never showed. Somewhere in his addled state, Dean remembered that wanting and needing were two different things, but with Cas, they never felt mutually exclusive.

Castiel had stumbled, legs weak and shaking from lack of use, into town, tripping through gardens and streets half-naked. The tender skin of his body tore with every fall on the cobbled streets, dirt and filth digging into his raw flesh. He thanked his lucky stars that Dean insisted he keep his shirt the last time they’d met, but still felt awfully uncomfortable upon entering the tavern, people leering or glaring over tankards of ale. “Dean,” he’d called breathlessly, almost falling to the floor from exhaustion.

Dean had been upset to see him, and Castiel had had to gently coax him from the tavern, trying to get them back to the shoreline where they could speak privately. Instead, Dean took one look at the state of his friend and brought him home to his little shack next to the smithy. Cas had assured him that these injuries would heal once he was in salt water, but Dean had refused. The human was upset, and Castiel had thought it better than to argue. 

He’d sat obediently as Dean dressed his wounds. He’d listened as Dean tore into him for breaking his promise; because can’t you see? I  _always_  need you, Cas. But when Dean had kissed him, the blue-eyed creature was done being a bystander.

They made love in Dean’s tiny bed, and for the first time in his entire existence, Castiel slept, away from the water and curled up against a warm chest. 

***  
Castiel dragged himself onto dry land, stumbling to his human’s place of work, chest heaving and body bare. He’d lost the shirt, he informed his companion upon arriving, watching as Dean ushered him inside, sweaty and smelling like metal as he touched Cas’ face and arms and waist, looking for signs of distress or injury. Dean slipped another one his shirts over Castiel’s head, obviously unconvinced when his search came back normal. Apparently, Cas had practiced walking; his legs no longer shook, nor were they scratched up. Searching his eyes for something— _anything_ to help him understand this visit, Dean was stopped by a hand on his cheek. Smiling, Castiel pressed his mouth to his companion’s sweetly. “Cas?” Dean asked, concerned.

“I’m fine.”

“Cas, we’ve known each other for two years. Gimme a little more credit.”

Silence.

“Just talk to me.”

Castiel bit his lip, fingers tracing the other’s bottom lip nervously before looking up, eyes big and blue and the same Dean had always remembered them. 

“I need you.”


End file.
